The War At Home
by Rap541
Summary: Sequel to The Peace of My Years. Cowritten with Ingrid Matthews. It's after the escape from Kobol and Lee and Kara are together, Dee and Felix are in love, and Adama and Roslin are contemplating a new more personal relationship. Pity that Baltar's trial i
1. Chapter 1

The constant drone of Galactica's trillium-fueled engines weren't something most crew members paid attention to after a few weeks aboard; after a few years the noise ceased to exist all together.

Strange then, how after a year aground on New Caprica, the sound was back to driving Kara crazy. She turned restlessly on the rack, even as beside her, Lee was fast asleep. A pillow flung over her head didn't help and besides, it probably wasn't the noise that was keeping her awake.

She had other, better reasons to suffer from sleeplessness. Things were _different_ now. Different because Sam was dead, different because she hadn't flown in what felt like years, different because she'd been in charge of an army of her own for so long, she'd forgotten was it was like to serve under the command of another.

Let others do the thinking ... the plotting ... for her.

Following orders didn't come as naturally as it used to -- not that following orders _ever_ came naturally to her.

She'd spent so many terrible months on the razor's edge, fighting for her -- and humanity's -- existence, she'd forgotten how to trust the instincts of others, even someone as capable as Adama usually proved himself to be. Kara Thrace had been a general on New Caprica, it was hard to go back now.

That wasn't to say that things were awful, she thought, running her fingers through Lee's hair. He stirred a little, before one sleepy eye cracked open. "When did you become an insomniac?" he asked, squinting at his chrono. "The Starbuck I knew could sleep standing up."

"When the Cylons decided that sleep was overrated," she replied, folding her arms over Lee's chest and tucking her head atop her wrists. She peered at him for a long moment, taking stock of features she new so well, yet could find something new to marvel in every time she looked. "You look rested," she finally remarked, relishing his grin.

"I have you to thank for that." Lee brushed his knuckles along the sides of her face; up one cheek and down the other. "You have a habit of keeping me on my toes."

She laughed aloud. "Is that what they're calling it now?"

In reply, he shifted beneath her, tilting her up until she was completely on top of him. "We can call it whatever you like."

The movement made her squeak, before leaning in to capture a passionate kiss. She could feel his heart thudding beneath the hands she used to steady herself atop him.

It was easy then, easy to rise and take him inside, easy to lose herself in the sensation of him filling her and making her forget, if only for a moment. There were too many bad memories lurking, she wanted to be washed clean, somehow and this seemed to work, at least for a little while.

At least there was a place for her here, a sort of peace in being with Lee, in loving him, she thought, shuddering in his arms as they rose and fell as one. There was war everywhere else, but not here ... not now, and that's more than most could ever say.

It would be greedy to ask for more.

0o0o0o0o0

"Come to bed."

Dualla's whispered order, under most circumstances, would be obeyed with an amusing burst of speed, but this time Felix remained glued to his portable datapad, his eyes keenly focused on running lines of code that repeated themselves every minute or so.

With a wry grin, Dee shoved off the covers. Their shared quarters were small enough that it only took two steps to slip up behind him and wind her arms around his neck. "Are you cheating on me with that thing again?" she teased, with a gentle nip to his earlobe. "I know you're in love with your work, but ..."

"Hmmm?" He shook himself out of his reverie. Smiling, he leaned back in her embrace. "Sorry, sweetheart. I'm just checking over some old code I saved before the hard drive wipe."

"The hard drive wipe? That was over two years ago."

"Twenty-three months. Seems like a lifetime I know, but ..." Felix paused, running a thumb over the datapad's space bar. "I just never figured out exactly what happened or precisely how the virus worked and ... I just hate leaving things hanging, you know?"

Dee pressed her cheek to his. It felt oddly warm, a little fevered and she pulled back in worry. "Is everything all right?"

"Sure." With a mischievous look, Felix swiveled the chair around and pulled her down to straddle his lap. "What could possibly be wrong?"

She gave him a narrow look. It had been a few months since their escape from New Caprica and everything had been fine -- at least the best version of 'fine' the situation had to offer - but she couldn't stop worrying about him. She watched as he drifted away from her sometimes, lost in thought, becoming occasionally forgetful or, worse, snappish, but he was so attentive and adoring the other ninety-nine percent of the time, she could easily overlook the odd outburst or two.

And Doc Cottle _had_ said he was fine, but that didn't stop her from being concerned. There were so many things he hadn't told her; about what horrors he'd seen ... about what he'd been made to do while a Presidential Aide. She knew he was holding tightly onto certain things he refused to share, things that might be hurting him badly. The longer he held them inside, the worse the damage would be.

She didn't like that idea. Not one bit. "I just want to be sure you're okay."

Felix chuckled and gently tugged her down, until their lips were touching. "You could always examine me. Naked."

Dee couldn't help but smile against his mouth. "You were always a pervert, weren't you?"

"A very sad one," he nodded, kissing her lower lip. "And now I'm the happiest guy alive. So don't worry about anything." 

Thought grew foggy as the kissed deepened. Still, concern niggled at the back of her mind. There were hard times ahead, she knew, even as she arched into Felix's hands which were doing the most wonderful things along her belly -- as well as further down. They were about to be tested, that much she could sense, but she felt confident that they could withstand just about any storm, just as they withstood the terrors of escaping from New Caprica.

Even if the former President's -- Gaius Baltar's -- trial was soon to begin.

0o0o0o0o0

"I suppose it would be too much to demand a lawyer," Baltar muttered, sitting hunched like a crab on the lone brig bunk. He rocked side to side, while from the other side of the bars, Laura Roslin stared at him with an unblinking gaze. "Not that I've committed any crime, but if I'm in here ..."

"Collusion is a crime," Roslin replied evenly. "Collaboration with the enemy ... treason ... whatever you want to call it. It's a capital offense, if I'm not mistaken, mores the shame if it comes from a sitting President."

Baltar graced her with a brittle smile. "Yes, and we all know just how _fond_ you are of capital punishment, Madam Airlock. However, you'd be hard-pressed to prove collusion when I still have strangle marks on my neck from when those Cylon animals thought it would be amusing to play a game of Threaten the President every day for six months." His voice rose several decibels. "So unless you have hard proof of my _collaboration_ I suggest you let me out of here as I am innocent until proven guilty ... or have you and your Admiral plaything changed the rules again?"

She ignored the dig. "The testimony of the survivors tells another story, as well as my own observations. That's why we'll be sorting it out in a trial."

Baltar laughed and it was a humorless sound. "The _survivors_, oh yes, that will be an unbiased testimony." Baltar rose, running his hand frantically through hair that was now long and greasy with neglect. He whirled and glared at Roslin, stabbing his finger through the air. "How do you think those people "survived"? Half of them are alive because they are the true collaborators and the other half are here because I ... Gaius Baltar ... stuck my neck out for them, at grave personal risk, again and again, so they could live." Throwing himself against the bars, he stuck his face as close to Roslin's as he could manage, laughing wildly as she jumped back, startled. "As for _your_ observations, Madam President, I'm quite sure you only observed whatever it was you could find that would catapult you back into power. Because that's what all this is about, isn't it? Getting rid of your rival, the only person who could take your precious Presidency away from you and who would still have it, if you didn't create this court of lies against him. You're afraid of me, aren't you, Roslin? Aren't you?"

Laura Roslin drew herself up and leaned in closely, until their noses were almost touching. "I am afraid, but you, Dr. Baltar, are not one of the things I fear." She backed away, brushing at her sleeves, as if Baltar's mere presence had soiled her. "May the gods have mercy on you and may you someday find the inner strength to live with the knowledge that your surrender and subsequent actions nearly destroyed the last shred of hope this race has left."

His face turned dark red and he began to shriek, as Roslin turned and strode through the hatch door, which closed tightly behind her. She could still hear him screaming as she walked away. "I was the last hope the human race had! It's not my fault they invaded us! What else could I have done? What do you think you could have done? You're no better than me, Roslin! Do you hear that! No better than I am!"

It was only once she was out of earshot did she allow herself to shudder and lean against a hull wall, hugging herself tightly and willing her pounding heart to cease its thudding.

This wasn't going to be easy. For too many reasons.


	2. Chapter 2

"I appreciate the time you have all taken out of your busy schedules to attend this meeting."

Gaeta rolled his eyes at the president's assistant as she droned on her little welcome speech to the amassed crew in the pilots briefing room. They weren't morons, he thought darkly. The people in the room were all ranking officers and enlisted people who had been in the resistance. The trial was coming up and they weren't fools. Their testimony was going to be requested. 

Tory Anderson had been a lawyer before the holocaust. She had worked with the unions on New Caprica. Nice enough, for a shark. He wasn't surprised that she had landed on her feet, back with President Roslin.

A lot of people simply wanted their old jobs back, to pretend that the year and a half interlude on New Caprica had never happened. He often wished it himself. It wasn't easy. The admiral seemed to be over his anger, and Colonel Tigh was almost too friendly with him, but work was still awkward. Life was still awkward. He didn't chafe at being back under military discipline, not like some did.

In a lot of ways he had never left it. The Cylons made military discipline look like hugs and kisses. He feared the brig a lot less than he feared an electric cattle prod. What bothered him was the open hostility from people he had considered friends. He could feel people glaring at the back of his head, people who should have known better. He wasn't sent on inspection tours for the fleet anymore. He didn't miss that chore but he knew why it had been removed from his duties.

_"Collaborator"_ was hissed at him when he went down to the flight deck. It would be worse on a civilian ship. He might even be killed. Such things were happening, no matter how hard the president railed against it in her speeches. He sometimes worried when he was alone in the corridors. 

He kept that from Dee, of course.

Roslin wanted trials. Trials first. Then punishment. He wasn't looking forward to Baltar's trial. As Tory droned on about their duty and their depositions, Felix found himself thinking about when the Cylons first came to New Caprica. There really hadn't been a choice about surrender, that was the problem. No battlestars, no escape except into the harsh wilderness which would kill the casual traveler, and they certainly didn't have the weapons to fight off Cylons.

No, he didn't...couldn't blame Baltar for that. Roslin could talk all she wanted about what the president should have done, but she hadn't done anything at all. Sure, she had carefully documented who was doing what to who, but she hadn't done anything. She had waited it out, her hands completely clean. Had she been president...He didn't doubt her courage, but Roslin had a martyr complex.

Dying for the cause was right up her alley.

It also led to less worry about the future, which a lot of people didn't understand. Felix sighed and rubbed his aching head. Dying for the cause certainly solved a lot of problems.

"Now we'll need your depositions as soon as possible. Each of you will be interviewed, some of you more than once so I will talk to the admiral about scheduling. I know some of you are in critical specialties. You're dismissed." Tory glanced at him, and then at Kara Thrace. " Major Thrace, Captain Gaeta, if I could have you two stay for a few moments."

Kara smirked at him as the crowd shuffled out. He smiled back. Kara had been quick to defend him, enough that on the Galactica at least, he didn't worry. Much anyway. Tory eyed him carefully and made notes.

"Captain Gaeta, you do understand that you're essentially the star witness for the prosecution, correct?" Tory looked him over as if to imply that it was a problem.

"Yes, of course." He wasn't sure where she was going.

"You have an image problem, Mr. Gaeta. Frankly," and he saw her hands clench the pencil she was holding," frankly, most of the civilian population still has no idea just what your role in the Resistance was. There's a perception that you've been granted a reprieve because of your technical training, but that otherwise you would be on trial with Dr. Baltar. That needs to be remedied."

"We'd all be dead if Gaeta hadn't been with us," Kara said, her eyes flashing with danger. "He was undercover."

"Yes, exactly," Tory said.

Gaeta almost smiled at her soothing tone. There were times he didn't miss being an aide to the president, and calming the angry masses when there was no real solution at hand was a task he hated.

Tory at least seemed to have a plan. " The problem is that the story of what happened isn't out there for the people to hear. So we need to rehab your image. That is where Major Thrace comes in. First, Major Thrace, you will testify at the trial ahead of Captain Gaeta. That way, the jury will know the truth and have it ringing in their ears when they consider testimony. But that's just the icing on the cake."

"Icing on the cake?" Gaeta didn't like the sound of that. Tory nodded, and he was again reminded of a shark. Worse, a snake, with her cold eyes almost hypnotizing him. He fought down the shudder that was building in his body. " What do you mean?"

"A subtle media campaign." Tory said. "If we try too hard, we'll play into the defense's hands, so we can't just have you interviewed on the Colonial Gang on what a hero you are."

"The Colonial Gang? They're still around?" Kara asked.

"The ones that lived, yes," Tory said.

Gaeta looked down at his hands. A lot of the reporter subclass on New Caprica had been arrested rather quickly. Tory herself was still missing the fingernails on her right hand, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen that done. The sad reality was that he didn't even remember how many executions or torture sessions he'd watched. The reporters...it had been early on, he thought.

Tory, to give her credit, seemed quite past it. " Major Thrace, you're going to be interviewed over the next several weeks as a prelude to the trial. The media just thinks this is our way of encouraging the people, to tell them the story of the resistance fighters. Warm the spirit and all that."

"But there's an agenda?" Now Kara was interested, he could tell. He tried to focus but his eyes were drawn to Tory's fingers.

"You need to talk up Captain Gaeta's involvement. Every mission you mention, be sure to include details of what Captain Gaeta did to help you." Tory gathered up her papers. "It's a pity you're both involved with others. A little romance would have spiced things up."

Kara Thrace had the maturity to wait until Tory left before she snorted in disgust. " Gods, did you hear her? Romance spicing things up! Where the hell was she on New Caprica? I was busy being shot at and watching my_ husband_ die."

It made her blood boil. It was made worse by the fact that she knew Tory was right. The civilian public was past the rush of relief of being liberated. They wanted and needed a story of heroics to keep them going. She just thought the truth was good enough.

Gaeta shook his head. " She was in the camp. Didn't you see her hand?"

She almost rolled her eyes at him, but stopped short. People were touchy these days. She certainly was, and Gaeta had been snappier than most when he wasn't around Dualla. And she had seen Tory's hand and what that meant. " Still...She thinks it's a better story if we're lovers? I have to do media interviews? It's a trial, not a popularity contest."

Gaeta rubbed his head. " Says the person who is popular." He sighed. 

"People hassling you, Felix?" She hoped not. There _had_ been some grumbling at first but the story had gotten around, and Gaeta looked bad enough for a while that she thought it had stopped. Lee had knocked a few heads on the subject, so had she, and surprisingly Chief Tyrol as well. Still, Tory did have a point. He had an image problem, with being Baltar's aide.

He shrugged. " It's all right. I'm just a little tired." He paused. " She probably didn't know you were married."

"It feels like a lifetime ago." She also sighed. She missed Sam, she missed him a lot and it wasn't always a topic to raise with Lee. Lee was a good man and he tried but there was a line and talking about how much she missed her husband was going to go over it. "This is going to dredge up a lot of bad memories. Too bad Baltar had to get captured alive. Things would be a lot easier without a trial." Not a nice thing to say, but it was how she felt. She still didn't know how the marines had been able to resist killing him. But, she thought as she took in Gaeta's slowly paling face, there was such a thing as saying too much. It had taken her a long time to figure that one out, but she had while leading the resistance. " You all right with this?"

He looked down at his hands. " Its not as cut and dried as people think. There were...a lot of people killed in the punishment camps. I saw a lot of people die and didn't do anything. I know there was nothing I could, that I was helping but ... there's a lot of dead people on my mind. A lot of civilians I had to ignore in order to get the military people out. People have a right to be mad at me."

"You shouldn't feel guilty over not saving everyone, Felix." She got up and began to pace around the briefing room. " Let's not kid ourselves. Ninety percent of these people just rolled over and took it up the ass for the Cylons! They have no right to look down on you. They all had the same opportunity you did and none of them did a thing."

It made her angry. There were plenty of times that she had looked to the civilian population of New Caprica for help, and it was rare when the civilians were even willing to give them scraps of food. Too risky, they said. Too risky but then they had full stomachs and if they didn't struggle too much against the chains, they would have nice, quiet lives.

As slaves and pets, of course.

After a moment Gaeta smiled at her. It wasn't a pleasant smile. "You know, Dr. Baltar said something like that to me, about working with the Cylons. It's ironic."

"Gods, he's an asshole," Kara muttered good naturedly. She returned to her seat. "So I should tell the reporters how I told you to stay. That should shut people up." She thought about that night. " Do you remember how cold it was? You gave Sam your jacket and gloves when you agreed to stay and you were shaking, telling me that damn poem. I figured you were going to freeze." Sam had been coughing and they had left so fast, she hadn't even thought about what he was wearing. Later, after he had died, she had given the gloves to some young kid from the engineering staff, and the jacket had been the closest thing to a sleeping bag or bedding she had. It smelled like Sam, who had worn it until he died weeks later. "Sam thought that poem code was the dumbest thing."

Gaeta looked down at his hands. Quietly, he said, " I know this happened...because you're telling me and it fits but...I don't remember that at all." He nervously rubbed his fingers. " I know you're telling the truth but I just have a blank in my mind from the surrender to a week later ..."

He was, Kara realized, completely serious.

"Okay, have you told Dr. Cottle this? Because you did get hit in the head a lot." Kara tried not to let herself consider the greater implications of what he had said. A witness with memory problems was much more problematic than one with a bad rep. " Is this the only blank?"

He shook his head. " No...sometimes everything is as clear as crystal, like when I'm almost asleep and then it's there in perfect detail. But when I wake up, it's gone."

" Ok, you're seeing the doctor." She pulled him to his feet but he pushed away from her. He actually put his hands up, and Kara struggled not to laugh. It would hurt his feelings at best to know that while she considered him one mentally tough fellow, that she could pound him senseless in seconds. Plus, laughing at him was likely to provoke him. He wasn't the first person she had seen have that sort of reaction either. Doctor Cottle had actually taken the time to give the senior staff a class in handling violence. Without pounding someone. " Calm down, Felix. Maybe you should take deep breaths and count to ten."

He dropped his hands. " I went to that class too, Kara. If I go to Dr. Cottle, he'll tell the admiral. The admiral will make a point of asking if I am fine. He'll do it in front of Dualla, and she's already acting as though I might die every time I have a headache."

"Problems in paradise?" Kara asked. He was diverting her, she knew that, and she wasn't letting it go, but she was curious. More than once, Lee had made reference to how surprised he was that Dualla and Gaeta had...gone from friendly coworkers to essentially married in what amounted to days. She wasn't so surprised. Gaeta had mastered looking cool and unemotional in the CIC, but the way he had looked at Dualla when they worked together. The surprise was that Dualla had taken the lovesick bait. Dee was a little clingy with Felix, the more she thought about it, and he had spent months essentially alone. " She's just worried."

"I'm not five!" he shouted. Then he did take a deep breath. " I'm just tired...I don't want Dee to worry, and she'll find out if I go to sick bay, and I've got depositions to write and nav coordinates to plot."

"No." Kara enjoyed saying it. " You don't remember something that took place six months ago. You need to be checked out. Maybe you're just tired. And maybe there's something wrong, and you're not helping anyone by ignoring it."

He glared at her and began to pace the room. " And just what the frak do you can be done? If something is wrong? Do you have any idea what they did? What they were going to do?"

Yeah, this is not good, Kara thought. She held up her hands. " Listen to yourself for a minute. You're obviously worried. If there's nothing wrong, then Dr. Cottle isn't going to find anything and you can stop worrying. If there is something, then you know it and you can deal with it." Of course, he was right. If there was something wrong, brain tumor wrong or worse, his dealing with it would amount to being able to plan his own funeral. She didn't think that was the problem though. There had been some spectacular breakdowns in the last few weeks, and none of those people had been under the pressure Gaeta had been under. " Now come on. I'll walk you down to sick bay and we can both tell him your...privacy concerns."

"I don't want Dee to know there's a problem," Gaeta said quickly. There was relief in his voice, but also fear. " You can't tell Lee."

"I won't tell anyone," Kara agreed.

Yeah, she thought as she pulled him by the arm down the corridor. Dee was being way too clingy, and Gaeta was trying way too hard to be just fine. The good thing was that it was probably nothing. Cottle had checked him out pretty thoroughly. He was probably tired.

There was going to be hell to pay with the trial if he wasn't.

0o0o0o0

If Laura Roslin had ever felt a twinge of discomfort entering William Adama's quarters, those days were long behind her. Maybe that had something to do with their now years of shared grief and triumph; or maybe it was the new, softer emotion that had begun to color their relationship after the debacle of New Caprica -- it was hard to say. She just knew that she suddenly felt at complete ease in his quarters, enjoying his grin when she absconded his favorite section of the sofa and accepted the drink of ice water he offered with a smile and nod.

They sat together, side by side in companionable silence for a few minutes. It was a pleasure for both of them not to have to fill every second together with small talk, or, in their particular cases, speeches that would result in life or death decisions.

Sometimes it was nice just to sit back and relish the silence.

But peace and quiet can never last for long, Laura thought regretfully. She shifted the glass in her hand, watching the ice cubes click together. "I visited Dr. Baltar today."

Adama gave her a sidelong glance from behind his glasses. "And?"

"He believes he had no choice when it came to the surrender ordered by the Cylons on New Caprica. Wasn't in the mood to die for freedom or fight for the preservation human race. Didn't collaborate ... exactly ... and believes I would have done the same as he did. In short, it was a typical conversation with the man."

"Hmm." Adama rubbed his hands together -- slowly, thoughtfully. "Barring the last claim, I hate to say that he does have a point. Cowardice isn't treason persay, not even in a President. It takes more than that, and I say it's going to be hard to prove he actively cooperated with specific crimes against humanity committed by the Cylons."

She leaned her head back against the sofa, closing her eyes in frustration. "They wouldn't have been able to get away with half the things they did if they didn't have _some_ sort of cooperation at that level. I don't think he even passively resisted, Bill, not for a minute ... a second. The man is a criminal."

There was a gentle tug on her fingers and she opened her eyes to see that Adama had taken her hand and was rubbing it, slow motions of his thumb again her palm, still peeling and red from too much time spent in a detention cell, banging her hands against the walls in rage, day after day. "What else did he say? I know there's something else, or this wouldn't be bothering you so much."

She took a short sip of her ice water, enjoying the cold burn against her tongue. "He said ..." She paused, biting her lip and taking another sip before resuming. "He said that I'm only interested in ensuring my return to the Presidency. That I only observed the evidence I wanted to observe in the interest of returning to power and eliminating him as a potential rival, by death if necessary."

"I don't believe that," Adama replied quickly. "You shouldn't either."

Laura's throat tightened. "I know how far I've gone in pursuit of doing what I think is best for the fleet. And yes, sometimes it was over the line ... I'm not perfect, Bill. You know that better than anyone." Her voice grew stronger. "But I do know that Gaius Baltar is a traitor to humankind. And that it has nothing to do with my control issues or the Presidency. I saw children, little girls as young as twelve, taken away, never to return. I saw old men, women, the sick and already dying tortured to death. I saw more murder and misery than I ever thought a person could and the idea that he could have sat there, in a warm ship, with food and a bed and claim that he couldn't do a damned thing ..."

"We'll find out what really happened down there, I promise," Adama interjected softly. He squeezed her fingers. "No matter how many straw men Dr. Baltar tries to dance out in his own defense. In the meantime ..." His eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at her. "We're getting down to the last bits of canned soup and frozen bread in the storage hold. Would you care to come by later and join me in enjoying this final treat before we start processing the mold bars or whatever it is we'll be eating from now on?"

"Oh gods," she sighed, but had to chuckle. "That's just another little problem we have coming up, isn't it?"

"The food stores were never going to last forever," he said. "It's a shame that the planet didn't have any good replenishing sources of edibles. At least we got some water aboard before the invasion."

"It's true," she replied, tucking her arm within his as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Even the fruit there was bitter." 

"So come by tonight and let's give the rumor mill something to grist about," he said, gently kissing the top of her head. "We can distract them all with our dangerous liaison."

She laughed aloud at this. It was the first good laugh she'd had in what seemed like forever and she enjoyed the warm flush that crept over her cheeks. "Why, Admiral, you shock ... yet, titillate me. Eight o'clock?"

"Eight o'clock," he agreed. His tone turned serious. "And don't let Dr. Baltar get to you. He's dangerous in the way trapped rats are; he'll do just about anything to save his own skin and his bite is diseased, infecting the mind. I hope he hasn't gotten to anyone else who might be able to help us find the truth."

Laura thought for a moment. _Someone else who knows the truth ..._. "I hope so too."


End file.
